In a greasy spoon diner
Called the Clover grill,
Where Daisy cooks the greatest
Hamburgers in all of New Orleans,
Is where I eat most days...
Now I’ll admit.
The place isn’t that clean,
The plates don’t exactly gleam…
But the place is friendly…
Daisy knows my face
And Always has some special sauce for me.
So if you’re ever down in New Orleans
Just look it up, you’ll see what I mean.
The hamburgers are lean, the chats a buzzing…
Who knows you might just meet me…
Sitting by the window...
Sporting my green- T
Author notes
Uniquely-scarred
A contest entry
- Write A poem about this picture I took.... words seem to fail me. by artis.
1000 points, ended September 4, 2008, 16 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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Clever ending allowing the poet to become part of the image, this would make a great ad full of honesty for every greasy spoon eatery across the U.S.A
And you have touched on what we are really looking for when we go out to eat, good company, edible food, and a change of location from the drab kitchen of our own existence. Thank you for your entry.~~Artis
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This has a wonderfully warm feel to it.
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thank you
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This is good--the conversational tone is very effective, adding a sense of everyday realism to the poem. Well done. Oh, just one thing--I think you mean "diner" instead of "dinner."
Take care,
Bill
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thank you, and you are right never saw that before now lol
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Is this a real place? Nice job here capturing the place...
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thank you, no its from a picture in a contest i am in
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Hey! This is different!
You seem to be trying another way of writing here and I feel you have succeeded.
What are you doing in New Orleans? It's a wonderful character study of Daisy.. It sounds like a friendly yet slightly dirty place.
and I like the way you finish with the green-T.
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thank you, for your comments and applause
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